Thought Series | Sustainable development in the life of Jesus Christ

Sustainable development - sometimes known as sustainability, though the former is more appropriately recognised as a process and the latter as a goal - is a topical concept that gained traction at the United Nation's World Commission on Environment and Development. The commission defined sustainable development in its Brundtland Report Our Common Home as "meeting the needs of the present without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their needs." In essence, the concept strives to protect and promote social goals for harmonious coexistence. Leaders at the commission recognised the abuse on environment through the conquest and exploitation of natural resources was having a direct impact on human flourishment; it became relevant then to reconcile this abuse at the time with a definition that would pave the way for sustainable practices to secure needs for future generations. 

The concept of sustainability is not foreign to Catholic teaching. The late pope Francis echoes this thought in his encyclical on Laudato Si on numerous occasions. He reminds us time and again throughout his letter that care for the natural environment is incompatible to the justification of abortion, and that the earth's exploitation has a proportional impact on the poor and the vulnerable. He is simply reiterating his predecessor, Benedict XVI, who said, "the way humanity treats the environment influences the way it treats itself, and vice versa."  Before their time, John Paul II likened our response to care for creation as a moral issue threatening human peace if left unchecked. When explored more deeply we find that sustainability is a moral demand rather than optional because it is deeply relational. When we neglect care for the earth, we have a negative impact on the lives our brothers and neighbours, and, when we take ownership of caring for the earth, we preserve the human goods for a better life.

While the Church and global institutions have taken clear positions on sustainability, the question remains whether Jesus engaged this concern. Although scholarship have shown how the Christian ethics supports sustainable practices, little attention has been given to sustainability within the lived experience of Jesus. The multiplications of the loaves and fish in Matthew, Mark and John's Gospels give a compelling example. After feeding the crowd, Jesus instructs his disciples to gather what remains so that nothing is wasted. Waste is significant to sustainability, as in his later works Pope Francis links environmental degradations to a throwaway culture and overconsumption rooted in individualism. Although Jesus appears resourceful, a detailed reading underscores him as the true source of sustenance. In Matthew and Mark, Jesus feeds the crowd through the assistance of the disciples, whereas in John they do not appear to have a role. Despite the disciples Philip and Andrew stressed scant means to feed such a large crowd only Jesus miraculously produced bread and fish superabundantly without waste, presenting him as the definitive model for sustainable development.

Jesus’ concern for sustainability is especially evident in his teaching on the indissolubility of marriage. Marriage breakdown carries profound social, economic, and environmental consequences, a reality confirmed by modern research. Children from divorced families experience higher levels of emotional insecurity, mental health challenges, substance abuse, and risky behaviour than those from intact households. They are also more likely to experience instability in intimate relationships later in life. One study found that 60% of participants attributed their reluctance toward lifelong marriage to their parents’ divorce. These outcomes highlight the long-term human costs of marital dissolution.

The environmental impact of divorce is also significant. Divorce often requires the creation of additional households, increasing land use and placing pressure on natural habitats, leading to biodiversity loss and ecological displacement. As separation rates rise, so too does the demand for housing, furnishings, and appliances. While second-hand options exist, consumer preference frequently favours new goods, driving manufacturing, resource depletion, and higher energy consumption. Research by Liu and Yu (2003) found that divorced households in the United States consumed 42–61% more water, land, and energy per person than married households. They estimated that maintaining intact marriages would save billions of gallons of water, reduce housing demand, and significantly lower electricity use. These findings reveal an often-overlooked truth: divorce contributes to environmental unsustainability. In contrast, Jesus’ call to unity and reconciliation in marriage promotes not only social stability but environmental responsibility. As divorce becomes increasingly normalised, it adds to the growing challenge of achieving sustainable development, both now and in the future.

When married couples divorce it is hard to not see the impact their decisions have on the environment. Divorce often requires the creation of additional households, resulting in the use of more land for housing placing pressure on natural habitats, driving biodiversity loss and displacement of flora and fauna. These new homes must also be furnished, often with furniture and appliances once served in a shared household. While second-hand goods and appliances are an option, consumer preference often lean towards new products, further driving manufacturing demands and depleting natural resources.[1] The manufacturing of these goods also increases energy consumption, which then contributes to a larger carbon footprint. Research by Liu and Yu (2003) found that divorced American households consumed 42-61% more limited resources (water, land, energy) per person than married households. They estimated that maintaining intact marriages would save 627 billion gallons of water, 38 million fewer rooms required, and 73 billion kWh less electricity used. These figures reveal an often-overlooked truth: divorce contributes to environmental unsustainability. In contrast, Jesus’ call to unity and reconciliation in marriage offers not only social but also environmental sustainability. As divorce becomes increasingly normalised, it adds to the burden of achieving sustainable development – now and into the future.

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[1] Lea Becker Frahm, and Casper Boks, “It’s Intertwined! Barriers and Motivations for Second-hand Product Consumption,” Circular Economy and Sustainability 15 (2025): 665; B.B.S. Parihar, “Consumer Behaviour Across Various Family Life Cycle Stages – A Case Study of Home Appliance Market,” Amity Journal of Management 5, no. 2 (2017): 9.

Thought Series | The moral demand of discipleship

Discipleship in our modern world demands bravery to follow Christ. Headlines declare the decline of Christianity; many live-in name alone, unwilling to pick up their cross, while others publicly reject their baptismal identity altogether. Inspiring people to live the gospel values is challenging, often faced with apathy or rejection, even from nominal Christians. Yet, discipleship invites us beyond the safety of our faith community. We are sent to the ends of the earth, to share the love of God on ears who have neither heard nor experienced the power of the Word. This mission is entrusted to us because, as the saying goes, “love is a universal language all people understand in their hearts.”[1]

Discipleships begins with the proclamation of the Good News. After every Mass we sometimes hear the dismissal “Go out and preach the Gospel,” a timeless commission echoing Jesus’ command: “go out baptising every nation in the name of the Father… Son… and Holy Spirit.” Yet, what is this Good News? In both the 1^st century and our own, it answers the same human longing of life after death and that God loves us regardless of our deficiencies. Mark’s Gospel (1:17) summaries this as the kingdom of God has come near. This Kingdom being one of love and life with God, those two main points highlighted. 

Before a disciple can proclaim the Good News, they must be transformed by it. Discipleship is not a mere repetition of words but a response to the personal invitation of Christ: “Come, follow me.” We learn from the Gospel that Jesus miraculously fed a crowd from a few loaves and some fish, and that he instructed the ignorant and healed the sick. Jesus does not expect us to match his efforts for this would be impossible yet nonetheless, we are invited to follow in his ways.

At the core of discipleship is a moral commitment. The baptismal renewal at Easter challenges us: “Do you reject Satan and all his works?” To proclaim Jesus Christ requires a deliberate choice to live in opposition to evil and to pursue good. The word moral, rooted in the Latin morales and Greek ethos, signifies “the good life.”[2] Reflecting on Jesus’ ministry reveals that this good life is not abstract but relational. He ministered to the social, physical and emotional needs of those he encountered, showing kindness even when met with humiliation: “Isn’t this the carpenter’s son?” sneered the crowd, before driving him out of their presence. The good life therefore involves more than just offering a handout, it demands extending kindness to those relationships who directly oppose us.

The call to discipleship is a commitment to the path that Jesus has set before us. Through both his command to proclaim the Gospel and his personal invitation to “follow me,” Jesus draws us into a deeply personal and transformative relationship with him. To be a disciple is to be in union with God through Jesus, and from this union flows our vocation to love. Discipleship is not limited to avoiding sin, feeding the hungry nor repeating doctrinal truth sentences; it is ultimately about building a community of love. Created in the image and likeness of God, we are, as Aquinas teaches, not closed off nor self-sufficient individuals, but creatures designed to be receptive to God and open to the goodness that flows from him.[3] Since we are inherently relational, our relationship with God extends beyond this private affair – it calls us out into the broader community to instruct and serve because we find fulfilment not in isolation, but in communion. In doing so, we fulfil Jesus’ ultimate wish: “love one another as I have loved you.” This command extends to all people regardless of who they are and where they stand in society. This is the heart of discipleship – the moral life rooted in love, lived in relationship.

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[1] Lamoureux, Patrricia, and Paul J. Wadell, The Christian Moral Life: Faithful Discipleship for a Global Society (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 2010), 3.

[2] Christian Morality : An Interdisciplinary Framework for Thinking about Contemporary Moral Issues, edited by Geoffrey W. Sutton, and Brandon Schmidly (Wipf & Stock Publishers, 2016), 16.

[3] Aquinas,Summa Theologiae, trans.Thomas Gilby (London: Eyre and Spottiswoode, 1964), Ia, q.9, art.2.

Thought Series | The Fuel to Christian Mission

Baptism initiates a person into the Christian life. From the moment of baptism, every Christian assumes the duty to preach the Good News – that is to say, to make God known to others. This mandate is instituted by Christ in scripture and affirmed by the teaching authority of the Church.[1] In its Decree on the Mission Activity of the Church, Vatican II employs the term “mission” specifically to denote the task of giving witness to the Good News through preaching theGospel and planting the Church among peoples or groups who do not yet believe.[2]

While Christians are called to preach and propagate the Gospel, our mission also includes standing for moral truths essential for individual and collective flourishment intended by God, even when these truths are rejected by the prevailing culture. In a society increasingly disengaged from liturgical worship and Christian doctrinal and moral truths – favouring instead a thirst for conspiracy and environmentalism with no real regard for true ecology – it seems that the true sense of mission is lost.

The Latin maxim Nemo dat quad non habet (“no one gives what he does not have”) captures a fundamental principle: you cannot offer to others that you yourself lack. A slightly different yet more quoted variant is “you cannot pour from an empty cup.”

Although a Christian receives the indelible character and gifts of the Holy Spirit at Baptism, the missionary activity of the Christian is largely ineffective if there is no love for God in his heart, for baptism is the beginning of faith and faith is deepened through love. What is absent in a heart without this “love which gives meaning to our lives” is not merely the accidents[3] or sentiments of love, but the possession of the very object of love who is God himself. Without this love, the Christian person cannot give what he lacks.

Love of God is found upon and built on prayer. As God is not found in external objects and is yearned for in the interior of one’s heart – sometimes misconstrued for in objects or idolatry practices – prayer is the only place in which God is revealed. Prayer allows God to begin an encounter with the person who seeks him, deepening that encounter with the one who persists and trusts in the presence of God in the power of prayer. We see this in Jesus' own person who saw the necessity of prayer to deepening a relationship with God. Nine times alone scripture references Jesus retreating to be alone with the Father.

It is because of prayer that Christians can speak to others about God because through prayer God makes himself present, teaching us how to be loved and to love him in return.[4] St Thomas Aquinas tells us that the purpose of prayer is to be disposed to be received from God the things he wills to give which includes Knowledge of himself. As knowledge of the uncreated one cannot be found through systematic experimentation, God knowledge is discovered only if God so wills to share with us what he knows of himself and since this is undiscovered through rational inquiry, prayer is the place to discover God.

God wants us to make him known to others, and this is primarily the task of mission. However, we cannot make God known to others if we do not know him. While prayer is the place to grow in love of God and propels us into the world to serve, it is also the place in which we encounter God and learn from him. It is precisely the reason why we pray, to gain knowledge of the one who loved us first so that we may love him in return. Actively participating in the missionary works of the Church is the outward sign of love of God. 

Missionary work is not limited to just propagating what the Church teaches. We must take action to support what we profess. The maxim "Put your money where your mouth is" precisely reflects this idea, challenging us to demonstrate what we believe through concrete action – or keep silent. At the heart of Jesus’ teaching ministry was mercy, and in every case, he embodied what he taught. "Neither do I condemn you; go, and do not sin again" were his words to the woman caught in adultery - words that reflected his teachings on the Father's Mercy. So, while prayer teaches us to know God and build our relationship with him, it shapes our disposition and how we live in the world. It forms us into virtuous agents who not only proclaim the truth but live it, allowing us to testify to the reality of God in mission.

Disclaimer: This post may contain affiliate links, meaning I may earn a commission for purchases made through these links, at no cost to you. 

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[1] Evangelii Gaudium, no. 8.

[2] Ad Gentes , no. 6.

[3] By accident I mean the property predicated of a thing.

[4] Crossing the Threshold of Hope, John Paul II.

Thought Series | Unchanged by Love

The notion that the God of the Old Testament is violent is not a new theological question. Scholars have extensively debated this topic since the 20^th century, either defending, attacking, or denying the violent attributes ascribed to God. Proponents of a vengeful and wrathful Old Testament God contrast the accounts of violence in the Old Testament with Jesus’s merciful and compassionate reactions to injustice. However, it is difficult to fully align with those who promote a violent image of God, as God is often depicted as being distant from the violent acts recounted in the Old Testament, despite conflicts between the Jews and Gentiles.

To better understand the wrathfulness attributed to God, it is essential first to define violence before making assumptions. Violence is characterised by the intent to cause harm to another person or property. However, God’s intent, as outlined in Scripture, is to redeem His people from persecution and hardship. With this definition in mind, it becomes evident that it is human beings who intend evil upon others, not God. Therefore, we can confidently assert that attributing violence to God is a misrepresentation of divine intent and an error in understanding of the sacred text.

St. Thomas Aquinas provides further insight into this discussion affirming that there can be no change in the essence of God. According to Aquinas, change implies the acquisition of something new. Yet, because God is the fullness of being and perfection itself, He lacks nothing and thus cannot acquire anything new. If God were capable of change, it would suggest that He either continues to learn or transition from making errors to acting without fault. However, as God is both perfect and all-knowing, He does not need to learn anything new, as He already possesses complete knowledge of all things.

Consequently, the idea that God is a stern and wrathful God is flawed. Transitioning from vengefulness to kindness would imply a change of heart and thinking, which is incompatible to the unchanging nature of God. If one argues that the God of the Old Testament were vengeful and the God of the New Testament beneficent, it suggests the existence of two separate gods with two distinct wills. This argument is countered by Christian understanding of the oneness of God the Father and the Son. They share the same divine essence, the doctrinal truth formally expressed by the Council of Nicaea through the term homoousia, meaning “of the same substance.” Each Sunday at Mass and holy days of obligation Chrisitan’s profess this belief in the Nicene Creed, reaffirming their belief in the one true God, revealed in Jesus Christ and spoken through the prophets.

While violence does still occur within the Chrisitan community – through power struggles among the laity and abuses of authority among the clergy – this does not validate the perception of a violent God. Instead, we as the Christian cooperation must guide communities in understanding the true, unchanging nature of God. God is not defined by wrath or violence, but by justice and mercy, united in love.

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Thought Series |The Paschal Mystery and the Power of Presence: Being There on Behalf of the Father

The word presence carries within it the meaning of “being there.” Often, we speak about people having a physical presence, while at the same time not being attentive to the moment or aware of themselves. In other words, a person may be seen physically there but inwardly disengaged and his mind and spirit absorbed elsewhere. So, the act of being there seems to have two dimensions: it includes both a physical and a spiritual awareness of one’s environment.

From a Catholic point-of-view – or Christian’s point of view – the act of being there always includes these two dimensions. However, our self-awareness or spiritual presence in real-time consists of two further aspects. When we are being there in the company of others, we hold the best interest of the other person.

We see this in the most elementary form of friendship of love. We die to self and rise beyond our ego for the sake of the other. For example, spouses give themselves over to each other in costly love; parents sacrifice themselves out of love for their children. (Lane, pg. 112).

The self-aware act of being there in the best interest of the other is not merely about our desire to be present but rather about our being there on behalf of another. We are often prompted by someone else – or by an institution – to act for the sake of another.

For example, it is in the best interest of the patron that I service alcohol responsibility as a bartender, but it is on Liquor License’s authority that prompts this responsibility. The same applies to educators and public servants – their representatives being the board of education and department of governments, respectively.

Jesus’ incarnation and ministry embodies this concept of being there for others. His historical life, as recorded in scripture, presents a God physically among his people, divided by social, economic and political tension. He acts consistently in the best interest of others, as seen in his preaching, healing and the feeding of the crowd.

Yet, though he loves us, he is present as one sent by another – his heavenly Father. Being there, it seems, involves more than physical presence and self-awareness. In Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection we discover that truly being there is rooted in the will and love of another – the source of agency – whose love calls us to act in the best interest of the other.

The Paschal mystery encompasses Jesus’ life, ministry, death, resurrection and ascension into heaven. We experience and celebrate these mysteries through our participation in the sacraments.

According to the Magisterium, the celebration of the sacraments is not an enactment on repeat of Christ’s life but instead a representation of them in the present done repeatedly. By representation, the Church teaches that Jesus truly makes himself present through the minister’s own actions. In other words, although Jesus has ascended to heaven, he is still here with us – even where his physical presence is not seen.

Jesus’ real-time presence through the sacraments is not a magical act nor a symbolic gesture of his love. It is God’s reality in the liturgy however our reception to it depends on our openness to it (DesiderioDesideravi §45)¹.

If we explore the roots of the word pascal, we discover it highlights the theme of “passing over.” In the Old Testament, we read that God passed over the Israelites to save them. This links to one of the two sacramental structural realities of the sacrament, which is oriented towards salvation – the already now, but not yet.

If God passed over then for Israel, and then passed over again in Christ’s humanity, it follows that he continues to be here – fully present to our need of being saved, acting in the best interest of our reality – thanks to the Father’s love – through the sacraments.  

In this way, we, as one people in one moment of time, experience God’s continued act of saving each and every one of us. His being here is not as a passing visitor to our world: he has taken up permanent residence.

Disclaimer: This post may contain affiliate links, meaning I may earn a commission for purchases made through these links, at no cost to you. 

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1 [Click here] to be directed to Pope Francis' Apostolic Letter Desiderio Desideravi. ^↩

Recharge Series | Deliberately Fighting Evil One Outstretched Hand at a Time

 

Friday Gospel Recharge Series 

Reflection on Luke 5: 12–16 | Friday after the Epiphany, Year C – 2025

Some people perceive God as violent. Critics argue that God is violent because He permits atrocities, whether caused by natural phenomena or human actions. They argue that if God were truly a non-violent person, he would intervene to end suffering caused by violence.¹ These critics too often point to the Old Testament, highlighting accounts of violence and say God has a violent past. While this may seem like a fair argument at first glance, a careful reading of scripture reveals that God never deliberately nor directly causes violence. The biff and the blood spilled is consistently the results of human actions.

In today's Gospel, we read of an encounter Jesus had with a leper. Although the passage does not directly address violence, the life of a leper in biblical times was marked by its own form of hardship and suffering. When we view human flourishment is closely tied to meaningful interaction with others, lepers lived isolated lives, often relegated to the peripheries of society, with minimal opportunities for interaction. Such a lifestyle inevitably violated peace and caused profound suffering in their lives. 

In this passage, Jesus brings emotional relief to the leper, allowing him to draw close. This encounter gives the leper an opportunity to connect and bond with Jesus satisfying his urge for community - an experience he had been denied due to his disease and societal stigma. Yet, Jesus' decision to let the leper approach and touch him posed a perceived risk to the wider community. There was a reason why this man had been segregated from the rest of the community: his disease was contagious, meaning that it could be transmitted during close and frequent contact, so as a result the leper was shunned from fellowship.

Violence, by definition, involves the intent to hurt someone. Jesus in this passage is not depicted to intently hurt nor undermine anyone of the community. Instead, He is purely fixed on the wellbeing of the leper. Jesus knows his physical and emotional pain brought upon him by the disease. Moreover, Jesus knows his own ability and behind this a genuine willingness that corresponds with his ability to heal.  Therefore, without expressing any emotions, Jesus stretches forth his hand and touches the leper, releasing him from the disease that has excluded him from community participation. Because of Jesus' ability to heal and his corresponding will to reconcile the leper, the risk of violating the community is negligible. Jesus did not disrupt the serenity of the community when he allowed the leper to approach him for healing. Jesus could not and would not have brought violence upon the community as he is intent on achieving good in the world.

For those who perceive God as violent, Jesus' actions in this Gospel challenge that perspective and reveal God's goodness in a profound way. Jesus, who is Son of God and is also God, demonstrates that God's actions are inherently good. God shows his goodness by ending the violence the leper had endured due to leprosy. Not only does Jesus releases the leper from the violence caused by this disease, but His action is also deliberately authentic. This authenticity is reflected in His command to "go and show yourself to the priest." Jesus is not concerned with proving His obedience to the law prescribed in Leviticus 14 - especially since He has already violated it by touching an unclean man, an act forbidden by the law. Instead, Luke emphasises that Jesus' focus is on the authenticity of the healing, which only the priests of Israel can declare, allowing the leper to be reintegrated immediately into the people of God.

This Gospel offers us a clear lesson: while God is not violent in his ways, we are called to oppose the sin of violence. Our stance against this evil must be authentic. Authenticity is found when we allow God to work through us, offering all our resources and ability to protect others so they may live in and have inner peace. After all, as Jesus reminds us - not in this Gospel, but in an earlier one, "blessed are the peacemakers, they will be called sons of God" (Matthew 5: 9).

Let us begin by rejecting the misunderstanding that God is violent - our first step in opposing this sin and living as true peacemakers.

Disclaimer: This post may contain affiliate links, meaning I may earn a commission for purchases made through these links, at no cost to you. 

Interested in faith-based sporting apparel that is simple, modest yet inspirational? I recommend checking out SAVD's apparels and accessories by [clicking here]. 

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1 If you read through some of my older posts, you will notice I promote primary and secondary works on Thomas Aquinas, the greatest philosopher and theologian of all time. At least in my opinion. If you are after indepth perspective on the topic of violence you will find Thomas Aquinas on War and Peace by Gregory M. Reichberg a reputable resource. [Click here] for a copy. Peace in the Thought of Thomas Aquinas by John M Meinert and Gregory M Reichberg is also a well-respected resource. [Click here] for a copy. You will have access to these resources if you sign up to a local theological library near you - so I commend you to also signing up. ^↩

Recharge Series | Do You Have to See to Believe?

 

Friday Gospel Recharge Series

Reflection on John 20: 2-8 | Friday in the Christmas Octave, Year C - 2024

Do you have to see to believe? Often, this is the narrative many people present when challenged about the existence of God. But in reality, do we really have to see in order to believe something to be real? When the first person stepped onto the moon, the world celebrated it as a huge leap for mankind and no doubt it was. However, not everyone witnessed it firsthand. I wasn’t around in the late 1960s to witness it. I trust the event took place due to historical records. 

A more recent and relatable example of unseen belief involves the world of cryptocurrency and the stock market – fields that test the faith of both believers and sceptics. Consider the speculation surrounding investments in cryptocurrencies or stocks. Do we see tangible proof of their promised returns before investing? Many people trust word-of-mouth projections about stable coins like XRP or high-profile stocks like SpaceX, relying on speculation rather than definitive evidence Yet, as history shows, many lose their investments when those expectations do not materialise. This modern dynamic mirrors the struggle to believe in something unseen – a challenge that has persisted through history.

While many demand evidence for the existence of God, our contemporaries are not alone in needing to see in order to believe. In today’s Gospel, we read of the disciples struggle with faith in the resurrection. This doubt is first illustrated in Mary Magdalene’s initial reaction. Although a devotee of Jesus who hastened to the tomb once the sabbath was over, she ran to Peter saying, “they have taken the Lord out of the Tomb.” These words reflect her uncertainty. To have believed, she would have remembered those Jesus’ own words: “The Son of Man is going to be betrayed into the hands of men. They will kill him, and after three days he will rise,” and declared he had risen instead.

Mary Magdalene is not alone in her doubt. When she informs Peter of the empty tomb, his first response is to run and inspect it himself. He does not reassure her that Jesus had risen. In a similar fashion, John, the beloved disciple, ran after Peter, as though something wrong had happened. 

The darkness of doubt pervading the minds of these disciples is clear then. Even with Jesus’ words about rising on the third day they could not fathom how he could rise after the crucifixion. St Thomas Aquinas¹ explains their mindset, noting that the Evangelist hints at their condition of their minds when he wrote: “while it was still dark.” They ran to the tomb not knowing nor understanding, running about in darkness (Ps 81:5). However, it is not until the disciple John sees “the cloth that had been over his head” that his doubt transforms to belief. By seeing, he moves from the darkness of doubt into the light of belief. 

The cloth that John notices is described as rolled up and set apart from the other garments. Parents everywhere might think this is a verse for their children: kids be good and fix your beds. This seemingly minor detail is one with great significance. St Thomas Aquinas explains the head cloth symbolised Christ’s divinity. In Ancient Near East tradition, the heads of royals, priests or self-proclaimed divine figures were adorned with distinct burial garments to signify their unique status or divinity. John would have understood this tradition. If the head cloth was with the other garments, he wouldn’t have taken much notice as it’s not that important. However, it’s separation emphasised Jesus’ divine status, leading John to recognise that he had risen. 

This brings us back to the original question: must we see to believe? While John needed to see the head cloth to trust in the resurrection, he did not witness Jesus before him in the flesh. This Gospel shows that the concept of doubt is real and even the disciples experienced it, yet the faith is a gift open to us. To receive this gift, we must step out of our carnal tendency towards doubt and trust in the unseen. We do this daily- believing in events, markets or truths we have not witnessed. Similarly, God provides signs in our lives, just as he provided one for John. When these opportunities arise, our task is to recognise them, step into the mystery of faith, and carry out the commandments obediently, trusting that remains true to his message of hope that we will rise with him on the last day.

Taking a risk on the unseen of God cost us nothing except our time and trust. Unlike misplaced investments or speculative ventures, saying yes to God does not leave us out of pocket. Instead, He fills the pockets of our hearts with peace, joy and love, the three very things we naturally desire which can only be satisfied through pursuit of truth and loyalty to God’s heart. On this Friday within the Octave of Christmas, let’s step out of our comfort zone, and embrace the mysteries of Jesus’ message of hope so that we may inherit a better future.

Disclaimer: This post may contain affiliate links, meaning I may earn a commission for purchases made through these links, at no cost to you. 

Interested in faith-based sporting apparel that is simple, modest yet inspirational? I recommend checking out SAVD's apparels and accessories by [clicking here]. 

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1 If you are serious about biblical exegesis or would like to study this text further, I recommend the commentary on John’s Gospel by Aquinas. Most modern-day exegetes are excellent but Aquinas by far is one of the best sources we have on this Gospel. He will not disapoint. [Click here] if you would like a copy of the text. Otherwise, sign up to a theological library near you and borrow these sources. It does not hurt however to have your own collection of resources at hand.^↩